


aren't you tired (of me)

by bellafaithy



Category: ENHYPEN (Band), I-LAND (Korea TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Gen, have fun, heeseung is like 6 years older because that is essential, jay and sunghoon are frenemies lmao, mentions of Heeseung/Kay, sunghoon is heeseung's adopted brother, sunghoon is not your usual sunghoon here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27244087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafaithy/pseuds/bellafaithy
Summary: “Bitch, you sold me out,” Sunghoon meant Jake, but the dude is standing right behind him and Sunghoon is spitting it right into his guardian’s face.“Oh, so you were planning on staying out without telling me?” Heeseung raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. His trademark bitchy attitude on display.“You weren’t gonna be home anyway,” Sunghoon retorts petulantly, his pout severely ferocious and if he’s trying to act sober, the fiery pink tint threatening to swallow his entire face completely gives him away. Heeseung scoffs at the attempt.
Relationships: Lee Heeseung & Park Sunghoon, Lee Heeseung/Park Sunghoon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	aren't you tired (of me)

**Author's Note:**

> *6 years age gap, sunghoon is 17 atm and heeseung 23

Heeseung didn’t mean to scare, but his ears had been buzzing by the time he reaches the door and the heavy wooden frame slams open so hard the students walking past the principal’s office get scared out of their skin at the winding force.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” he apologizes as he whisks by, cheeks burning but it has nothing to do with almost slapping someone on the face with a door.

He leaves before the students could give a proper reply, and someone follows closely behind him as he quietly makes his way through the flocks of students filling out into the hallway. It's 15 minutes into recess so he needs to be quick if he wants to avoid gaining attention.

It's painfully obvious he’s not a student here, anyway.

“Hyung,” a soft voice speaks behind him. He refuses, almost petulantly, to acknowledge.

“Hyung, come on. Ignoring me already?” Heeseung snorts, tugging his cap further down his face when some of the students turn their heads towards him, intrigued and confused by his casual attire. And also, because of the brat stubbornly keeping a foot away from him.

“Hyung, it’s just a child’s play,” at this, Heeseung snaps around, gaping in disbelief because _the audacity of this child—_

“A child’s play. You call socking someone on the face and giving them nosebleed and a broken tooth a child’s play,” he deadpans, tone flat.

“Then a catfight?”

“You had three parents coming for you exactly two hours after the whole shit went down.”

“Their kids are a bunch of wusses,” Heeseung wants to fume, probably yank at this guy’s sideburns while he’s at it for good measure but he’s painfully aware of the attention they’re getting by the passerby around them, discreetly muttering to themselves about their situation. 

Right. Sunghoon is quite well-known in his school. For what reasons, Heeseung has no clue.

Or it's probably because Sunghoon is scratching at his nose with a bandaged hand, the collar of his uniform sporting an obvious tear from the scuffle he had with his peers, or the fact that Heeseung is there in his working uniform and bright purple hoodie, looking seconds away from tearing at Sunghoon’s hair with his arms crossed over his chest.

It's getting clearer by the seconds that Heeseung is there to pick up Sunghoon from school after receiving a suspension.

“These bunch of wusses is more than capable of having you sent to juveniles with just the right string to pull,” Heeseung grumbles, careful of any eavesdropper, and tugs Sunghoon by the arm to prompt their way to Sunghoon’s locker.

He's been enough to this school over the past years since Sunghoon’s first year of high school to remember where it’s lodged in.

“You think they’re that powerful—” Heeseung turns around, glaring bloody murder at Sunghoon yet the boy just stares at him back languidly.

“Why can’t you just admit that you were wrong? Sure, the kids barked at you and started the whole thing but they could have easily twisted things around and made _you_ the bully. You hit one on the mouth!” he hisses, feet picking up paces and Sunghoon steadily following in.

"He wasn't really putting it to good use," Sunghoon tries taking Heeseung’s hand into his, a habit of his to fiddle with things when he knows he’s going to lose in an argument, especially an argument against a Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung flicks his hands away with his middle and index fingers, and another to the forehead. Sunghoon bites back a smile, already knowing Heeseung is at loss for words.

“You broke his goddamn nose and _tooth_ —” Heeseung bristles, groaning before turning around to hightail out of there before he really chokes his ‘brother’ to death.

“Go get your stuff. I'll wait outside of the gates,” he throws, briskly making his way through the hallway and ignoring the rest of the stares that follow his trail.

Sunghoon has been acting up again, and he has no clue why. _Again_.

He managed to keep the kid in bay for a good month before this affair happened. He almost popped a major nerve when the school called him at 9 something just now, right after the outlet's morning briefing finished, to inform him of the little scuffle between Sunghoon and 4 other students of different classes.

Sunghoon, against 4 other students. That number itself is already ominous itself.

Their parents had all dramatically been there, demanding compensation and punishment for the ‘abuse’ and ‘mistreatment’ to their sons inflicted by Sunghoon alone.

(“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Sunghoon?” the principal had initiated.

“Oh, I was just wondering if your kids had considered the _mistreatment_ they had given my friend when they threw his lunch in the drain and popped a milk carton in his schoolbag,” Sunghoon asked instead, wicked innocence in his narrow eyes taunting the eyes of the 4 students to reiterate his claims.

They all physically twitched. Heeseung mentally swore.

“I’m starting to think if I should have just shoved the milk down their throats if they were that thirsty for a momentary fun,” he said, tone dripping malice despite the twinkling in his black pupils.

The principal’s room was quiet for quite some time.)

Sunghoon had a two days suspension from the whole ordeal. The only thing that had saved him from a potential legal lawsuit filed against him by the parents is the fact that there had been many, _many_ witnesses around _before_ and _when_ the fist fight happened, occurring courtesy to the bullies’ doing exactly what Sunghoon had stated beforehand to one of his classmates.

He's already out towards the gate, leaving Sunghoon to quickly pack his things up before catching upon him. He needs to calm down, gain his sanity back before he considers choking Sunghoon again when that kid comes back.

So he rationalizes that the short walk towards the bus stop without waiting for the younger would get his shit together.

“Heeseung hyung,” he whips around, taken aback at an unfamiliar voice calling him in Sunghoon’s school compound.

A student, his built lanky in the school uniform with a face so small Heeseung briefly considers placing his palm flat on it to see if it fits, stands right behind him, a book wedged underneath his armpit as he takes off his glasses.

“Wow, it’s really you,” this person says, wiping his glasses with a napkin he had fished out of his pocket, smiling at him as he wears them back on. Charming.

Heeseung cocks his head to the side, clueless.

“I’m sorry, I don’t seem to recognize you?” he apologizes, a little awkward and slightly embarrassed, having being caught in the middle of his own internal conflict.

“Ahh,” realization dawns on this guy’s face, which confuses Heeseung more. He wants to ask _do I know you?_ but then Sunghoon (the cheeky brat), out of the blue, pulls at his elbow.

He yelps in surprise at the sudden force but gets gripped in place by Sunghoon’s hands firmly attached to his arms, standing right behind him.

“Yo Jay, wuddup,” he greets nonchalantly. Heeseung tries turning around to glare at him, still pissed off about their previous banter, but then Sunghoon yanks him to the side and navigates them both towards the gate, ignoring his attempts.

“You’re leaving again?” this ‘Jay’ asks, voice tinged with amusement, adding to Heeseung’s confusion on the implication behind his words.

Again? Did Sunghoon ever skip school without him knowing?

That’s another question for another day.

“Got a paid leave directly from the principal himself,” Sunghoon says with such mischief Heeseung could almost _smell_ the smirk curling the younger’s lips. “Heading out now. Lend me your notes tomorrow!”

“You mean my finished homework,” Jay amends, no lilt to his tone, not a question, yet there's a small smile tugging the corners of his small lips. Sunghoon laughs wholeheartedly before he and Heeseung are completely out of the school ground.

“Who was that?” Heeseung finally manages to ask. Sunghoon is still grabbing him by the arms from the back, waddling behind him like some kind of a baby duck following in its mother’s footsteps.

“Classmate.”

“He looks familiar.”

“Of course he does, he was our neighbor before we moved out of grandma's house,” the younger answers.

At this, it clicks in Heeseung’s head. “Ah, Jay-ah! Oh my god, now I remember! He was that kid who wore baggy jeans and chains and skateboarded the neighborhood like he owned it, wasn’t he?” Heeseung brightens up as he recalls some very fond moments of Sunghoon’s childhood friends, one of them being Jay. “How can I forgot that kid? He's grown so much.”

“Well, technically he could have owned the entire neighborhood if he wanted considering his parents’ job, but yea. The hip-hop vibin’ wannabe,” Sunghoon deadpans.

“Weren’t you always on his tail, though before?” Heeseung peeks around, grinning slyly like a fox. “I keep recalling too many moments where you would be gushing over this Jay kid like ‘Hyung, he skated backward like he’s just walking, backward!’, ‘Grandma grandma, you should have seen Jay today, he was really _really_ cool, he—’”

“I get it. Jeez, another one of my many childhoods’s worshipping phases, so what?” Sunghoon mutters with a suspicious grudge, but the tips of his ears burn a fade pink that Heeseung reaches out to pinch at, cooing ever so loudly.

“Awww, I missed seeing you two playing together! Why didn’t you tell me he’s been studying at the same school as yours before?” he pinches and stretches, Sunghoon scowling at the assault.

“He’s in the first class, different than me. We don’t get to see each other that often. Besides, what difference would it make? It’s not like you could see him anyway,” Sunghoon shoots, pulling Heeseung’s hands away from his face.

Something close to guilt aches in Heeseung’s chest, and he reluctantly looks away, awkwardly scratching at his sideburns. “Ahh. Right.”

Sunghoon doesn’t point out the sudden drop of air around them, thankfully, or else Heeseung doesn’t know how to make up for it. Then Sunghoon abruptly stretches his arms forward, bewildering Heeseung, yelping when Sunghoon spread himself all over him.

“I’m hungry,” he voices out loud, his weight staggering their pace as they walk ahead, dismissing the weirded-out look passed by strangers. Technically, he is _still_ in his school uniform and Heeseung in his working uniform. It seriously looks like he’s encouraging a student to ditch school.

“I’m hungry! Treat me udon,” Sunghoon presses, squishing Heeseung’s face against his. Heeseung giggles, his initial anger already evaporated into thin air the moment they were out of school grounds.

“Fine, fine you giant dog.”

Heeseung’s and Sunghoon’s first meeting had been thunderclouds and muddy feet and messy limbs.

Heeseung had just came back from elementary school, drenched to his toes from the rain and bursting through the doors with a “Grandma! I’m back!”

“Oh Heeseung,” grandma had answered, sounding a little off guarded. Heeseung didn’t catch on the tone until he’s successfully peeled his wet shoes off his feet and opening the door to their threshold to see why.

Grandma was kneeling in front of an unfamiliar child, hands halting from pulling at the child’s outerwear. His hair was so greasy and sticky and wet from what seems to be a combination of slime and rain that Heeseung’s nose flared immediately at the sight. His clothes looked like they’d seen better days and battered, matted and covered with grime, and his _feet_ —

“Oh my god,” Heeseung had shouted, totally unintentional, and the child winched at his tone.

“Heeseung, sweety,” grandma consoled him, beckoning him forward with soiled hands. “Come. Help me with this child.”

The child, shivering and teeth gritting so much from the cold, was half Heeseung’s size and had twigs for bones. They tried their best to scrape off as much mud from his feet and hands as possible before hauling him up towards the bathroom. Heeseung had to stay outside so that grandma could coax him into taking a bath (the kid was out of it when grandma took him home, apparently, and was finally fully aware that he’s in a total stranger’s house by the time the warm air of the bathroom wafted into his face), even that took her like 10 minutes just to show him that the water bath will warm him and make him feel good.

Heeseung knew he shouldn’t ask before prompted, so he quietly cleaned the floor and discreetly threw away the kid’s clothes (it was beyond washable, Heeseung had a lot of clothes to lend anyway) and waited patiently until grandma came out with the child, squeaky clean and fresh.

“Sweety, go and clean yourself. I’ll make dinner for you both,” grandma ushered him off before he could take a proper look at the kid.

When he was done, the child was fast asleep in the living room, swaddled up in blankets and curling into himself so tightly he looked like a ball from a five feet distance. It seemed he had eaten a pretty large serving for himself, for grandma is making another round of rice for Heeseung.

“Sorry Heeseung-ah, he was so cold I had to lend him your blanket,” it was Heeseung’s favourite bought by his late parents, a nice thick and lightweight blanket with pretty cherry blossoms printed at the edges.

He remembers feeling a bit grudgeful at the moment (he Was a child himself back then) but had dismissed it in favor of grandma.

“It’s okay. Grandma, who is he?” he was never the one to beat around the bush, so grandma, instead of being flustered at his straightforwardness, had simply let out a chuckle, rough and tight because of her age, and clattered away in the kitchen.

“I’ll tell you after you’re full,” she handed him a bowl, filled with hot rice and topped with dried seaweed and that was effective enough to sate Heeseung.

“He’s the child that lives beside Mr. Jung’s house that I’m housekeeping. That house has been empty since last week and I assumed they had moved out, the problematic couple with a son,” grandma started after she was comfortably seated in front of the kid, so soundly and deep in his sleep he didn’t even budge from grandma tending to his nails. They were chipped at the edges and there were dried black crusts wedged underneath. Heeseung almost choked on his rice at the sight.

“But today had been raining so heavily and the thunder was no better, and I heard a cry coming from the house. I was just on my way here at the time,” she clipped and picked at his nails, her hands large and eaten by age yet so gentle when handling his much smaller ones, cleaning his hands with a concentration she usually reserved in cleaning fishes or tending to one of Heeseung’s fall wounds.

“He was shivering at the corner of the living room, curled into himself and was so small I almost mistook him as an oddly humongous stray cat,” she giggled, but when Heeseung took a closer look at her expression, she looked sad, disheartened. “He was crying so hard and was so afraid his cries sounded almost like a, like a dog. He was a weeping mess. He was all alone. I couldn’t leave him there because he was only a _child_. Like you, Heeseung-ah. And the Jungs has 4 young children to look after and I couldn’t bear to ask them for more.”

Heeseung had lost his appetite halfway through witnessing grandma cleaning the kid’s nails and decided to ditch his dinner for tonight and studied the proper way of cleaning nails, so he scooted over to her side, watching intently like a curious child he was.

“Where were his parents?”

“He never said anything when I asked him. He just kept on crying,” grandma flipped the kid’s hand over, ran her thumb over his palm with a frown that deepened each second. “The thunder scared him too much. Such a youngling already doing laborious work. His hands are rough all over.”

Now that the kid was clean and clear of all those disgusting grimes Heeseung had witnessed him in, he braved himself to come closer, straining his neck to peek underneath the kid’s fringes. His hair had grown out into a wild bushy frenzy and callous underneath his fingertips when Heeseung gingerly pats at them.

He swiped aside the black locks and voila, the kid was as fair as the first snow.

He told this to grandma with childish amazement and grandma had just smiled at him and shushed him to tone down.

“How did you get rid of all those gunk from his face? He’s so clean!”

“We need to get him to the clinic tomorrow, have the doctor check up on him,” grandma, once deeming her job done, gave the kid’s hands a commiserating pat and slipped them underneath the blankets with meticulous care, getting up on shaky knees to go to the kitchen. “Ahh, I need to ask the neighbors too about…”

She mumbled away as she went, leaving Heeseung to keep an eye on him for a while. Little Heeseung wondered a bit if he should let the kid sleep there in the living room or will grandma make him sleep in her futon tonight while the kid has his--then his eyes blinked.

Heeseung shrieked and fell on his bum, the kid slowly rising up on shaky arms. Outside, the thunder had calmed down to soft pitter-patter against the window.

“Oh,” Heeseung unintelligently blurted out. ‘First snow’ pursed his lips, scowling deeply at him. “You’re awake.”

**Author's Note:**

> i was not ready for a vampire enhypen. am not ready for a vampire sunghoon!! (or werewolf, maybe? cuz u know, vampires don't generally bare themselves naked in the wood during transformation except for werewolves, as far as my understanding allows me but feel free to correct me!)


End file.
